


Around the World in 80 Drabbles

by radondoran



Category: Le tour du monde en quatre-vingts jours | Around the World in Eighty Days - Jules Verne
Genre: April Showers 2014, Drabble Collection, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-01-03
Updated: 2012-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 21:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1403203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radondoran/pseuds/radondoran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some old AW80 drabbles.</p><p>(Is unlikely to ever actually contain eighty drabbles.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Foggs Go To Paris

Aouda drank in every sight of the famous metropolis, and Phileas Fogg, no great tourist himself, was happy in her happiness. But their faithful servant, a native Parisian, was happiest of all. Passepartout's round face beamed as he carried out his role of guide. He translated, navigated, haggled; he knew a thousand places, and had a story for each.

At last, as they watched the great city recede in the window of the train, Aouda asked: "Are you sad to leave again?"

"To tell the truth, madame," said Passepartout, and even he looked surprised, "I am glad to return home!"


	2. Sightseers

"Do you know, Fix, you and I travelled the world together--after a fashion--and yet I do not believe we stopped to take in the sights at any of our destinations? I looked for you in Aden, but you did not even leave the ship."

Fix grinned. "But I did tour Aden--twenty steps behind you! And then there was Salt Lake City, but..."

"No," Passepartout agreed. "I mean together."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Fix stood up and tossed over Passepartout's hat. "There are people who travel the world just to take in the sights of London."


	3. A Perfect Chronometer

It had been two months since Phileas Fogg had left London--two months away from the Reform Club, his Savile Row house, all his precise routines. Fogg was not a man to be prey to homesickness; and yet it is not so incredible that he should wish, this morning, to find some connection to his home. Fortunately, one member of his party carried a little piece of London with him always.

"Passepartout, what time is it?" 

Passepartout consulted his watch. "Four o'clock in the afternoon," said he, and waited to be corrected.

Mr. Fogg smiled, and said only, "Tea-time."


End file.
